


Best man?

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Church)Wedding, AU, Castiel POV, F/M, I Don't Even Know, M/M, M/M kissing, everybody's human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story of 'boy meets boy and then boy marries girl' or something along those lines</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best man?

**Author's Note:**

> One day I will start with a title and then write a story... This was not made on that day

As I look in the mirror I sigh deeply. This, I think to myself, is what a cliché looks like. The thought holds no comfort but I acknowledge it as the truth that it is, cause somehow my life has turned out as a romantic teen comedy, with less romance, teen-ness and comedy, but... you know.

Or maybe you don’t, so I’ll tell you: I’m the youngest of four, two older brothers and a ditto sister. My parents were very religious and named us all after angels (and didn’t that just make every bully’s job that much easier), but sadly they died in a car crash and we were raised by an uncle - I didn’t like him all that much, but I suppose he tried. On the first day of school after moving in with our uncle, I met a cheeky, green eyed boy who’s mischievous nature could rival even my brother’s, and despite our differences we became inseparable. Now, unlike my siblings, I don’t make friends that easy. I’m shy and blunt and have trouble understanding things like ‘personal space’ and ‘amount of time you should keep eye contact’, so naturally Dean and, to some extent, his brother Sam were the only friends I had growing up. Due to my siblings much better social skills there were plenty of people around me, and they were mostly nice and polite towards me, but Dean seemed to be the only person I never creeped out.

At some point puberty hit and my friend seemed to take a great interest in doing things with girls that just didn’t appeal to me. We had a fight about this when we were sixteen, Dean was dating some cheerleader and was trying to convey the finer points of kissing to me, and something inside me snapped, and I told him, that if he ever again tried to tell me anything of that nature, I would neuter him in his sleep. We didn’t talk for a month after that, apparently you don’t make threats against a man’s junk, but how should I have known that? In the end it didn’t last between them, and Dean was back, trying to distract me from doing my home work in no time. I don’t think I realized it at the time, but I was deadly jealous at those girls Dean paraded around. I knew they wouldn’t stay for long, but they got to see a side of him that he would never share with me, but a few years later the penny finally dropped. I wished it hadn’t though, I may not have been entirely happy, but ignorance most definitely _is_ bliss.

Having forgiven, or maybe forgotten, Dean once again tried to make me see the wonders that the opposite sex held, he talked me into a double date, with his latest girlfriend and her sister. The damn thing was obviously a disaster. Sure, Meg was pretty, but she scared the heck out of me and she kept calling me Clarence for some obscure reason. Dean just laughed at my discomfort, but agreed to never make me do that again. This was also the year I started noticing that I did look just as Dean did, I just wasn’t looking at girls. And before long I realized I was harboring a gigantic crush on my best friend. As I said, I wished I hadn’t found out, but as any other sane person would’ve done I drank a bottle of vodka trying to come to terms with that particular notion. Not that it helped all that much, but I passed out on my bed, slept for 12 hours and woke to my first and worst hangover ever, good times you know.

We ended up at the same university, and Dean suggested getting a place to live together, and because I’m stupid, or masochistic, like that I agreed. We ended up in a house that we by no means could afford, but whatever my brother does for a living - I’m not ashamed to admit that I dare not ask - he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, so he bought the damn thing, and let us rent it at a disgustingly low price. The good thing being that then we could focus on studying and not worry on money, well at least I could study and Dean could do other stuff. I have no idea - yes, I like to lie to myself - what Dean was doing, but for long periods of time he would only be in for a shower and a quick change of clothes. I occasionally saw him on campus, always with different people and once again I felt jealous, and wished I was more like my siblings. At some point I realized I hadn’t spoken with my best friend for a few months, and feeling lonely and sorry for myself I decided to go out the first opportunity I saw. Which of course was some party with people I didn’t know that most likely involved a lot of drinking. When Friday came around I was mostly inclined to stay home, at least until Dean walked through the door with his tongue down some girl’s throat. I was surprised to say the least, not by the action - wasn’t the first time I’d seen that - but it was the first he had brought home, far as I knew. They were pawing at each other’s clothes and I may have been pining and desperate but this was more than I could handle, and since I wasn’t able to get their attention I grabbed my wallet and keys from the table and hurried out the still open door. When I arrived at the party I was almost knocked back with the loud noises and the amount of people there, I was amazed the house wasn’t creaking at the seams, seeing as there were a lot more people than should be able to fit in there. But I made my way through the crowd and into a kitchen that was fairly unoccupied, except for a guy looking inside a fridge. At first glance I thought it was Dean, though I knew that was impossible, but the guy had the same dirty blonde, spiky hair, but when I looked closer, I saw that his eyes were blue and he was older than I. He smiled and handed me one of the beers he just got from the fridge, and introduced himself as Nick. Because I assumed it to be polite I took the beer and raised it, telling him my name before taking a sip - I don’t really like beer and would’ve much preferred vodka, but seeing as the guy tried to be nice I refrained from telling him this. The guy, Nick I reminded myself, was watching me, his eyes roaming all over me, making me uncomfortable, even though I wasn’t sure why, and he seemed especially fascinated with my mouth as I drank from the beer once again. It made me nervous and I was starting to understand why people find my own staring unnerving. Soon the bottle was empty and I placed it on the counter, trying to send Nick a grateful smile before turning to go back into the crowd in the other room, I was only half way when Nick’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Stay”, he said, “let’s get to know each other a little better.” Which is how I ended up being even more drunk than after the vodka, and before long I was sitting in Nick’s lap trying my best to clean his tonsils with my tongue. I think I was really bad at it, but he let me have my fun without complaint, and when I pulled away to get some air he placed me back on the floor and stood himself. He grabbed my hand again and pulled me upstairs, and suddenly we’re inside somebody’s bedroom, and somewhere in my mind a voice tried to tell me that _it’s a bad idea_ , but I wasn’t really listening, but just watching Nick as he stripped, and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers he was stepping closer to me, playing with the buttons on my shirt, slipping his hands under the hem and stroking my sides and chest. I had no idea what he was doing, but there was the distinct sound of buttons hitting floor and then my shirt was open - _ruined_ the voice from before supplied - cold air suddenly hitting my flushed skin, and Nick most likely sensed a shift in my mood, cause suddenly he was in my face, licking at the soft spot behind my ear before trailing kisses under my jaw and down my neck. The haze settled back over me, and I simply stood there letting Nick do whatever he pleased. It never even occurred to me to question if whatever was going on was something I even wanted to do at the time, and it’s not that it was unpleasant per say, there was just this vague feeling that something was slightly _off_ with the whole thing. When that’s said the kissing and the touching we were doing at this point - I guess you could call me a handsy drunk - was definitely nice, and if asked I would’ve been okay with doing just that all night. Of course Nick did not share that sentiment, and that’s when the entire evening went downhill. He tried to move me towards the bed while opening my trousers, and that made it through my drunken stupor, so I tried to pull away but damn, that guy did have some serious upper body strength. Lucky for me though, this was when a giggling couple suddenly burst through the door, and Nick was surprised enough to let go of me, and I decided to make a run for it. When I got home it was dark, and because I was still drunk and felt kinda sorry for myself - epic failure at meeting new people, you know - I simply face planted on the couch and cried myself to sleep - as I’ve said before: good times.

And obviously things weren’t going to get any better, as I was brutally awaken five minutes later (all right, hours, but still!) with two people laughing at me, Dean’s deep, joyous belly laugh and a much lighter, obviously feminine laugh. I tried to open my eyes, but I think the walls must’ve been on fire, cause they bloody _burned_ , so I closed the quickly again. Then someone, Dean, stuck a plate under my nose, loaded with bacon and scrambled eggs, and was that not just what I needed at that moment, so I made grabby hands at him, and he placed it and a fork in my hands and told me to eat up, seeing as I was “a growing boy”. Hungry and hung over as I was I didn’t take the proper time to scowl at him, but just sorta snorted in his direction. The girl - _Jezebel_ my mind happily supplied - laughed at this and told Dean not to disturb the sleeping bear. I decided then and there I despised her, and if I laughed a little internally it’s nobody’s business but my own!

Before long she was, however, a constant in Dean’s life, and therefore in mine too. Dean called her Jo, and I called her something else entirely in the privacy of my head. I never managed to figure out the nature of their relationship, apart from that first time I saw her I never again saw them kiss or anything else, but they bickered like an old married couple, and Dean completely stopped dating. Obviously this was both the best and worst that could happen: Best, because I didn’t have to watch an endless string of people taking Dean from me and worst, because now he had found someone who would take him away forever. Those were miserable times, and again I wished I had never come to the realization that I had feelings for my best friend.

Time went by and one day we were done with school and had to start looking for ‘real’ jobs. Somehow I ended up working for my brother, and if nothing else it made it possible for me to start paying off my student loans. Dean, Jez- okay, fine _Jo_ and Sam managed to find jobs in the city too, so nothing really changed: Dean and I still lived together in the house, while Sam and Jo lived who knows where, and only came around occasionally. Life was good, and I would’ve liked it if it stayed like this. But sure enough it didn’t. My siblings for some strange reason suddenly started getting married - I know, this is what you ‘do’ when you reach a certain age, but neither my brothers nor my sister had ever been the kinds to settle down with one partner, and yet, here they were doing just that. The weddings were awesome though hell to my liver, seeing as Dean always brought Jo to these things. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Dean one day got home and told me he wanted to marry, but it was nevertheless. He went on and on about how perfect everything would be, and I just wanted to beat him over the head with a stick for choosing _her_ instead of me. Then he just had to ask me to be his best man, and even I, with my rusty people skills knew that this was an honor, and I better well suck it up and be happy on behalf of my friend. So I told him I thought it sounded awesome, I was thrilled, of course I’d be his best man and I was sure she’d say yes, he looked a little perplexed at the last one, but I figured it was because I was a crappy actor, so I smiled even wider and got out a couple of beers to celebrate. When he left I contemplated drowning myself in the bathtub but just ended up crying myself to sleep, _again_ \- yes, I know that was epically pathetic for a grown up man, so sue me.

A few days later Dean told me that the wedding was happening, and suddenly I was roped into planning the damn thing with him. I’m not sure why I agreed but I’ve never been able to deny Dean anything. We went to a tailor, getting suits. Dean insisted that as his best man I would need a new, though I still think it’s a waste of money, seeing as I have a perfectly fine one already, but I was overruled and now there it is, hanging on my closet door, waiting for me to wear. Then we went cake-tasting. That was nice, Dean’s not really a cake kinda guy but I _love_ ‘em, so I got to decide their wedding cake - yeah me. I asked him ‘bout dresses, at which he simply shrugged and said the ladies would have to sort that out themselves, and it’s not as if I’m an expert on wedding dresses, so it was fine by me. Instead we picked out a place for the reception, flowers and the caterer. Dean insisted on meat and I reminded him about all the small thing that makes a meal, such as vegetables, gravy and the like, and we ended up picking a three course menu and the whole shebang. Fun all around - and if I pretended to be the one getting married, who cares, right.

But nothing lasts forever, and our final chore put an end to that day dream: We went ring shopping. The jeweler was a nice, older gentleman - you may laugh but he was - who obviously thought we were together, and kept showing us rings way too big for a woman, and since my bastard friend didn’t correct the guy, I had to. And the poor man got so embarrassed he threw a whole tray on the floor, and rings were flying everywhere. I apologized profusely and Dean laughed and I hope I never meet that man again. But we left after Dean had selected two rings, and told the jeweler the inscription he wanted. And don’t ask me, it’s not as if he told me.

So then we’re back at the beginning, my best friend is getting married to some woman instead of me, so I think there are plenty of reasons for me to sigh ‘as a love sick teenager’, as my ever supportive brother put it. Putting on my new suit I have to agree with Dean though, it definitely looks better than the one I already have, probably has something to do with the fact that it’s tailor made, and it gives me the courage to believe I can get through this without embarrassing myself too much. And being dressed and my hair tamed as much as possible I leave for the church, though why Dean picked _my_ church is beyond me.

When I get there I am met by Sam who tells me where to stand, and when I try to ask where Dean is he just shrugs and tells me, that Dean’s going to walk Jo down the aisle. I ever mentioned my friend is a little, hmm, unconventional? But I promised him I’d be here, so in spite of all the weird looks I get from the guests as they start filling the seats I remain standing where I was told to. Then everybody suddenly quiets and the organ starts playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and in walks Dean and Jo, arms linked together, in that slow pace every bride seems to master. And I have to admit she looks beautiful though not all that bridal - had I seen her outside among the other guests I would have thought she was one of them, not the one getting married. Dean, obviously, is stunning. One should not lightly describe a man as such, but he _is_ beautiful, too, the suit showing off every muscle and long limb, and - I assume, since I can only see the front of him - hugs his butt in the most favorable way, and then he lifts his head and smiles at me, and his eyes lights up with bloody _sparkles_ and I feel light headed and as if I can’t breathe - in the name of everything holy, why did I agree to this?

And then they’re standing next to me, Dean in the middle flanked by me at his left and Jo at his right, and I can’t take my eyes of him, and he turns his head and smiles at me, a smile I haven’t seen in ages it feels, part mischievousness and pure happiness. And then the bastard grabs my hands and squeezes it, and I can’t help but smile back at him, after all I have a rather pleasant day dream going on, and that does not involve Jo being here with us. Unnoticed, at least by me, the priest has started talking, but apart from a word here and there I find it impossible to focus on him. Until he says ‘Castiel, do you’, and what? Why? But nobody seems to find this weird at all, and the guy keeps talking, ‘til the point where somebody should answer, and I look expectantly at Jo who rolls her eyes and shakes her head, while Dean turns towards me and tells me ‘Dude, this is where you say I do’, which I suppose proves my point once again: Dean asks, I agree - and not five minutes later the priest tells us to kiss. And there are no actual words for that: what I did with Nick all those years ago pale in comparison to this, this I could be doing for the rest of eternity. Dean’s lips are soft and slightly dry and as I feel my knees buckle under me his hands come up to rest on my waist to steady me, and sweet Jesus, this kiss is goddamn _virginal_ compared to others I have seen Dean participate in, and yet it’s leaving me short of breath and lightheaded. An eternity passes before Dean pulls away, and if anybody tries to tell you I whimpered at that, they’re bloody lying. I will, however, admit that as soon as they were gone I missed the feeling of his lips against mine.

Obviously this wasn’t my first concern though, and I decided that when in doubt, demand answers, but seeing as I wasn’t sure I was able to speak, I simply fixed Dean with my ‘I am not amused Dean so you better spill before I kick your arse’-look (well, that’s what Sam calls it anyway) and it seemed to do the trick, considering Dean looked at me sheepishly and started rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Eum’ - yeah, well, I didn’t necessarily fall for his eloquent speech - ‘eh’, Dean looked slightly nauseated, but it’s not as if I knew what was going on, so I continued staring. Of course it was the priest who took pity on him, smiling at me and saying: ‘You know he’s been waiting for you for years, Castiel.’ At which point Dean turned beet red, ‘and,’ because priests just don’t shut up, now do they, ‘it’s not as if you haven’t been pining for him too.’ So there we stand, blushing as wildly as a couple of teenagers, while quite a few, if not every other person present, starts laughing and there are various shouts of ‘hell yeah’ and ‘kiss and make up, we’re starving’. And they’re right of course, this is a golden opportunity and if I don’t grab it with both hands I’m gonna regret it tomorrow, so in a display of unusual bravery I raise my hands to cup Dean’s face and then I lean forward to claim his lips. It surprises him and he goes completely still, but then he returns the sentiment in earnest. The world seems to disappear, there are only us, at least until I hear Gabriel whopping and I need to breathe anyway, so I pull back, and Dean’s smiling at me, that old familiar smile, but his eyes are soft and, sappy as it sounds, filled with love, and I can feel my own smile blossoming in answer and it doesn’t matter that there are a bunch of people starring at us, all that matters is that Dean leans forward and whispers ‘I love you’ in my ear.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, when others won't give you a happy ending, make one yourself 
> 
> Criticism is most welcome.


End file.
